“Sir, your claim was denied due to moisture. Yes, water is moisture.” It started as any other day at the call center - or so I thought. At 8:30 a.m. sharp I began working towards my self-imposed 80-call quota. Arguing with ignorant adults about the terms of their two-page contract which they didn’t read is not something you want to do more than once a day. Eighty was my sanity limit. I also had zero motivation to increase this corporations’ profits. On this particular call, the customer was upset because the warranty company was denying their claim for part which was ‘clearly covered on the contract’. However, the client failed to see that ‘failure due to moisture’ voided anything that was ‘clearly covered on the contract’. We were fifteen minutes into the call. I needed a break. “Sir, let me place you on hold while I review the terms with my Manager.” Instead of calling my Manager, I peeked over the cubicle partition to check in with my office BFF. From her exasperate

“The furniture isn't decorative. Please, have a seat.” It was day three of a little game I’d created called ‘Dare to Sit: Rich vs. Rich'. I’d taken a temporary gig as a receptionist for a billionaire. Yeah, B for Billions. My employer had Oprah money. Cue cash register sound effect. ‘Dare to Sit’ challenged supposedly wealthy financial advisors and general money men to sit on ‘so valuable it belongs in a museum’ furniture while waiting for their meeting. Fewer than half the guests accepted my challenge. Less than a third leveled up and accepted a drink while they waited. When you’re a billionaire, no one visits you unexpectedly. On my first day, I was searching for the entrance when a voice from an unseen speaker called out “Are you Onicia?”. I turned in a circle and looked at the sky, was this God or schizophrenia? Neither. The unseen voice directed me to the entrance. Lesson: millionaires have cameras at the gate. Billionaires have cameras and two-way communicat

“I couldn’t help it you’re just so beautiful.” In high school I discovered a quote “high school is like prison: the sex you want you ain’t getting and the sex you getting – you ain’t want.” It’s a typical Monday morning. I search my phone for entertainment to survive the commute. Wendy William’s hot topic is mind numbing. Switching to NPR, I catch the tail end of a segment explaining the differences between #BlackLivesMatter and #AllLivesMatter. This is too heavy for a Monday. I need something uplifting to take my mind off of bills, roommate issues, and all the horrible current world events. Praise hands emoji for Kari Jobe’s music. Yes! My favorite seat on the train is open. I never mastered the art of staying awake on public transport. Knocking on mental wood, I zip my purse and loop the straps around my arm. Here’s to not getting robbed. “Spare some change for the homeless?” I open my eyes to see a young, black male bundled in a thick winter coat. His overs